


I Wish You Would

by dollylux



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Body Worship, First Meetings, Intimacy, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: A dwarf and an elf walk into a bar, and Magnus's life changes forever. (Or, Magnus's first encounter with the exasperating beauty that is Taako Taaco.)





	I Wish You Would

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this pairing or this fandom. These two fuck me u p. This story was entirely exploratory for me and will more than likely have further chapters/a continuation of sorts. <3<3

He shouldn’t be so soft.

It’s the first thought Magnus lets himself have that, even in his inebriated state, he would never voice. He’d met the guy an hour ago and now he’s bonded to him and the dwarf for some kamikaze gig he’s not sure any of them really expect to return from, so there’s plenty else to be thinking about. But Taako’s hand had brushed his arm when they’d all tucked in together at a table not made of meat, and Magnus had actually, physically paused. 

Just the back of his hand, and he’d only felt it on his hairy, warm skinned forearm. Just his hand. If his hands were that soft, what about the rest of him?

Taako’s fallen quiet while Merle prattles on about some gathering or another he’d have to reschedule if they were indeed heading off on an adventure, and Magnus takes the time to study him, to let his heavy eyes sweep over the thick, impatiently gathered braid trailing down a lithe back and the delicate features that purse and twitch and smooth out as he listens to a drawn out tale of Pan, and Magnus can’t help but feel a little lost.

“What about you, big guy?”

Strange voice, irreverent and oddly fragile. Magnus realizes he’d been staring at Taako’s throat, at the exposed skin of his clavicle. He’s suddenly aware of the stifling heat of the summer beyond that’s slowly encroaching on the tavern, aware of the pick up pace of his heartbeat that nearly drowns out Taako’s question. He flicks his eyes up as naturally as he can, playing at zoning out on thoughts that weren’t about pale skin stretched over graceful bones.

Taako is smirking at him, his wide fluorite eyes narrowed knowingly. His fingers are piled with rings, all of them on display as he rests his chin on his hand and leans forward a little.

“Come again?” Magnus says, straightening out of his slouch and motioning at Friendly for another drink. He’s got a shit poker face, and Taako seems about fifty times smarter than anybody else who’s ever walked into this tavern.

“Team uniform? You down?”

Magnus just stares at him, knowing for sure that he must look like an absolute moron.

“Team…”

“Aw, don’t pick on the guy,” Merle says with a laugh and a wave of his small hand. “I think the heat’s gotten to ‘em.”

“Yeah, the heat,” Taako replies, his eyes not leaving Magnus. The smile stays stubbornly in place, too. “Sure, makes sense. But for real, any last minute business to take care of before we head out? Any goodbyes you need to say? Somebody to feed the cat?”

“No,” Magnus says almost curtly, absent fingers running over his half-finished duck. “No goodbyes.”

He sits in awkward silence for a minute while the other two stare at him, probably waiting for the inevitable sad explanation.

“Don’t have a cat,” he adds.

“Welp, that settles it.” Taako sighs and stands up from the table, digging in his pockets for coin that he drops on the grimy surface. “Guess we’re heading out in the morning. What’s say we meet out front here at ten?”

Magnus frowns, fishing around in his own pockets for the very last of his money.

“Shouldn’t we leave early? Before the heat really sets in? It’s gonna be a bitch of a day tomorrow, or so I’ve heard.”

“Taako doesn’t get out of bed before nine for much, my man. Sure as fuck not for some dude name Gundren.”

He steps back from the table and adjusts his hat. The sound of small bells tinkle somewhere on his person, his beautifully made but loveworn hat casting a shadow over his exquisite face. Magnus’s heart sinks when he realizes Taako’s about to leave.

“Don’t get arrested!” He calls over his shoulder as he saunters to the door next to the bar’s counter and takes the dark steps upstairs, disappearing from view and leaving Magnus staring after him and only now realizing he’s been left behind with Merle, the Pan evangelist. 

He folds up his grandfather’s knife with one hand and tucks it back into his pocket, taking a breath to start in on an excuse about why he has to go, but Merle beats him to it.

“Well, I’m not spending my last night of freedom in this shithole. There’s got to be a club somewhere around here playin’ some good music. You in?” The dwarf looks old in the way only dwarves can manage, with a bushy grey beard and ageless, lively eyes that don’t betray how many decades he’s walked this planet. 

Magnus just barely holds in a grimace.

“Not really my scene,” he says with as much genuine regret as he can muster. “Think I’m just gonna stay here and finish my drink. Maybe get a few feathers carved into m’duck.”

Merle snorts, a sound that removes the need for an eyeroll. He reaches up to pat Magnus on the shoulder.

“Suit yourself, old man!”

Magnus turns back to his duck when he’s finally on his own again, his entire life changed in the span of an evening. He grabs the tankard that’s been put beside him and drains it in long, lustful gulps. He doesn’t cover his mouth when he belches. His hand feels heavy when he motions for another drink.

 

\---

 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Magnus looks up from his mournful brooding and finds Taako standing in front of him, hands on his hips like a furious mother. But one look at his face shows only exasperation tempered by amusement.

“Maybe you misheard me earlier. I said do _not_ get arrested.”

“Ohhh,” Magnus says, leaning back on the stone bench and staring up at the ceiling. “Huh. Yeah. Guess I did mishear.”

The iron bars separating them block part of Taako’s pretty face, and Magnus is just the right kind of drunk and the right kind of self destructive to say so, but Taako takes pity on him.

“Dude at the bar said you asked for me. Why the fuck did you call your new coworker to come bail you out of jail? Surely a guy like you has a hundred friends, right?”

“No friends,” Magnus replies quietly, fidgeting with the still unfinished duck in his hands, turning it over and over again and watching its movements. “I don’t… I’m not really--”

“Hey, no need to explain to me. People fucking suck.” There’s a barrel against the opposite wall from Magnus’s jail cell, one that usually acts as a post for a guard, but there’s no one there this late at night. Taako hops up onto the barrel, his thin legs hanging over the edge at first, purple velvet winklepicker boots not quite reaching the ground. He lifts his legs instead, folding them up until his knees are nearly up to his chin and the heels of his shoes can catch and hold the edge of the barrel. He leans back against the stone wall and regards Magnus in silence for a long moment, and Magnus is too tired to do anything about it.

“So what happened?” Taako asks, his voice soft enough that the words don’t echo in the quiet space.

Magnus’s hands feel like paws, uncoordinated and clumsy and maybe he shouldn’t have had that last pint with Friendly to close down the bar. He rubs at his face anyway, sighing into his palm.

“Oh, you know. Got into a fight. These assholes wouldn’t leave this kid alone at the bar, and I guess I just kind of lost it. We took it outside at least. Friendly kind of made us.”

“Mm.” Taako nods, his expression even, almost serene. His hair is still braided, but it’s messier now, like he’s been laying on it. “Other guys get arrested, too?”

“Oh, no, they’re at the hospital,” Magnus replies, so dismissive and matter of course that it apparently amuses Taako.

“So is that what you do?”

Magnus raises an eyebrow, slouching deeper against the wall.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Save little woodland creatures from big bad wolves.”

Magnus snorts. He could fall asleep right here, listening to Taako’s voice.

“That’s a little exaggerative.”

“That’s not what you’re going to have to do for me, if that’s what you’ve been thinking,” Taako continues, his voice firming up a bit into something with conviction. “I’m not a damsel or whatever. I can take care of my own shit.”

A pang slices through Magnus and settles low in his belly. There’s some truth being exposed here, some subconscious thing that’s been playing out all night that Magnus has been too drunk to notice. He doesn’t deny that’s a thought he’s had because it would be a lie. A look up into Taako’s eyes tells him they both know it.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to go on this thing with you if I didn’t think you could. It’s not… that’s not exactly it. I just…”

He sighs again, pushing at a stubborn strand of hair that keeps falling out of the tie holding the rest back.

“I like being there just in case. Just… just in case.”

This is some of his deep dark shit peeking out, leaking from a crack in his massive Pandora’s box. He would rather slit his own throat than to pick at these scabs tonight.

“Listen, I’ll pay you back. Whatever this ends up being tonight, I promise I’ll get it back to you. I just… I just want to get a few hours of sleep before we leave in the morning. I have really low expectations for the rest of my night. Really.”

“You want out? I can just get you out, my man.” Taako’s long legs unfold and he’s back on his feet without a sound. “Just say the word and you’ll be on the other side of these bars.”

Magnus smiles tiredly, the blood on his busted knuckles mostly dried into a crust now, the one hit landed on his ribs aching like a bitch. He needs to stretch out some place long enough for his big dumb body.

“I don’t think that’ll go over well with the local police. I’d like to come back to Neverwinter at some point in the future.”

“Well, the guard’s out to lunch. And apparently that involves going home to his wife and having an early breakfast with her, so you’ve got another couple hours, at least.”

Magnus raises his eyebrows.

“So… there’s nobody here?”

Taako shrugs with one narrow shoulder.

“Just the kid working the front desk. And even I could take him.”

Magnus groans, rubbing his face with two cruel palms grinding into his eyes and sending shoots of bright colors into the darkness behind his lids.

“Well, since you’re a fucking Enchanted Forest Boy Scout and don’t wanna be busted out, how about we compromise?”

It takes a minute for his vision to return, and when it does, Taako is standing right in front of the cell bars, close enough that the shimmery fabric of his outermost robe grazes the metal.

“...How is this a compromise?”

“I’m gonna chill here for awhile,” Taako replies, leaning against the ancient brick wall that makes up the doorway. “You look like you could use some company.”

Magnus rests his head against the wall again, gazing up at Taako standing in front of him, and it just now hits Magnus that he’s not wearing his hat and that his eyes are rimmed in some kind of dark kohl that makes the colors in them unreal.

“Are those your real eyes?” he asks, too taken and sloppy to care about how dumb he sounds. 

“Mm-hmm. Grew ‘em myself, right here in this very head.” Taako looks like he’s waiting for something, like maybe he’s a little expectant. Magnus licks his dry lips and takes a deep breath.

“You wanna know what I was thinking earlier?”

Taako doesn’t play dumb. 

“Yeah, actually. Kinda curious.” 

“You accidentally touched me back there. Just… just a nothing touch. Grazed my arm with your hand, but. Fuck, I dunno. There’s just not much in the world, at least in my world, that feels like that.”

“Feels like what?” Not teasing or taunting at all. Taako’s voice has fallen low, a murmur or a lullabye or an incantation. Magnus feels like he’s drowning in the space between them.

“Soft,” he says, and he can feel the word in his chest, the vibrations pushing into the darkest corners of the room. “You were so soft. And all I could think about was how you feel in other places. How soft you could possibly get.”

Something about Taako’s expression tells Magnus he’s caught off guard, that maybe he’s surprised by what he’d said. Whatever it is fades into a smile so gentle that Magnus wants to reach out and touch it.

“Bet you say that to all the boys,” Taako finally replies, his face shifting back into its familiar, feline aloofness. Magnus smirks without humor, trying to force his limbs into some kind of movement and failing.

“I actually don’t really say shit like that to anybody, so.”

Too honest. Too real for this moment, for this conversation with this exact boy. Magnus has never possessed the finesse required to flirt at an expert level, and the way Taako’s face darkens tells him that he’s not any better at it now. He fully expects Taako to leave now, a cat bored with its current toy, and he feels the strange ache of rejection spread through his body like warmth. He’s tempted to just close his eyes, to just not watch this inevitable moment play itself out, but he’s helpless to Taako’s every movement, to the way his eyelashes brush faintly freckled cheeks when he blinks, to the way he fidgets with fallen strands of his hair and the way his eyes stay on Magnus himself, focused so intently that a thought comes unbidden into Magnus’s mind: this must be what it feels like to be a mouse ensnared in a cat’s trap.

“C’mere,” Taako says instead of anything Magnus expects him to, and their eyes meet with a brief, shared flicker of heat. Magnus is a tried and true stubborn son of a bitch, and he spends most of his life actively going against what’s expected of him, even in the most mundane tasks. But he finds himself obeying Taako with only a beat of hesitation, pushing up to his feet and taking a moment to find his center of gravity while his vision spins and drops.

“Think I got drugged,” he mutters, swaying in place before he forces himself forward, taking the few steps needed to bring him right up to the cell door, only the cold iron of it separating him from Taako now. The shift in perspective throws Magnus for a fucking loop, and he has to reach out to grab hold of a bar to stay on his feet even as his eyes never stray from Taako, as he marvels at how truly petite he is, especially without the hat. He stands a good foot shorter than Magnus, probably more, and everything about his posture and his frame tells Magnus that he’s just as delicate as he looks, that he depends on his magic to keep him safe, and that even though all that may be true, he doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit intimidated by Magnus’s stature.

“So what, are you all talk?” 

The challenge in his voice sobers Magnus up enough that he narrows his eyes and straightens up. Taako’s still inscrutable, still leaning casually against the doorframe like they do this every day.

Magnus hasn’t done this in his entire life.

“I don’t really get what you--”

A hand snatches out from between the bars and takes one of Magnus’s, so much smaller that he nearly laughs. The grip of it spans almost three of Magnus’s fingers, and he’s charmed enough that he gives in, loosens his muscles and lets Taako guide him. They’re both looking down now, watching the progress of Magnus’s hand and forearm slipping through the bars, and as soon as they’re on the outside, he’s touching solid, warm boy.

“Nothing else to do, right?” Taako’s voice is so quiet, lacking all the theatricality he’d displayed at the tavern, and the knowledge that he gets to be on the receiving end of such a tone makes Magnus’s whole body heat up, his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushing. “C’mon. Find out if you’re right.”

Magnus closes his eyes and obeys for the third time in the span of ten minutes.

His hand is large enough that it spans nearly all of Taako’s flank, and he fights the urge to be rough, to be quick and brutal and everything that usually comprises his rushed encounters with other men because Taako is different. He takes his time and counts the beats as he strokes over the right side of Taako’s body beneath all his layers but over a snug suede lace-up corset belt, one that pulls his waist into a smallness that feels unreal. He moves up until he feels ribs, and then down again until he’s got a hipbone cupped in his hand. Taako is silent all the while, a hand now braced on the wall and he’s leaning in to the bars but his breathing is steady, his lashes only a little lowered. Magnus can feels his eyes on him like a touch.

“Did you get what you wanted?”

A murmur between them. They’re close enough to kiss through the bars, if Taako was willing and Magnus was braver. 

“I want skin,” he says, the words rumbling low in his chest as the heat settles lower in his body, slipping through his guts like fire and pulsing in his cock.

“You better work for it then, papa bear.”

Taako doesn’t move, doesn’t give Magnus a clue on where to start, on how to get to all the skin hidden under way too many confusing layers. He growls softly, frustrated. Just as his fingers start to close in on a particularly shimmery fabric in his way, Taako speaks up.

“You wreck my clothes, I’ll put a curse on your cock.”

“What kind of curse?” Magnus asks, one side of his mouth tugging up into a smirk as Taako’s eyes find his own. He pulls at the linen tunic that’s acting as layer number one, careful to only work it from its corseted prison and not to tear it. “Like I’ll be hard forever?”

Taako snorts.

“I’m about to go on a fuckin’ road trip with you, my man. You think I’m dumb enough to do that?”

Magnus shrugs, only half paying attention because the shirt is coming, slowly but surely, Taako’s lean body moving with every tug.

“Dunno. You might be into that.”

Taako doesn’t reply, and Magnus doesn’t know if it’s because maybe it’s true or because he got the shirt free and the trapped heat of all that bare skin beneath is available to be touched. 

Magnus hesitates.

This isn’t at all what he does, the way he goes into sexual trysts that only serve to empty his balls and leave his heart untouched. He doesn’t like to know names, doesn’t care about beauty or special abilities or fascinating life stories. He gets in and gets off and gets out, and he doesn’t think about it outside of those shameful moments.

This is different. So different that he feels lost in it. His fingers tremble, and he’s so glad it’s dark in this corner of the jail, that Taako is too close to see his face now, that his hand is hidden safely beneath Taako’s clothes. 

It’s humiliating how aroused he is.

Taako sighs, but it’s not impatient. Magnus’s hand is suddenly brushed by one of Taako’s, and he’s being guided to the lacing of the corset belt, to the bow holding it cinched. They pull the knot free together. 

The lacing loosens easily, and the belt slips down Taako’s slim hips and hits the packed dirt ground with barely a sound. Full access now, from hip to collarbone. 

Magnus couldn’t stop himself now if the entire Neverwinter police force suddenly barreled into the room.

Both hands are up now, tucked under the shirt and together they cover Taako’s entire waist, holding it between them and tugging him into an exaggerated arch, one that Taako does willingly and with delicious pliancy. Magnus’s arms are too big to fit between the bars past his forearms, but he grits his teeth and pushes anyway, bruising his skin as he tries to get closer, to pull Taako closer.

He keeps one hand steady on the jut of one of Taako’s hipbones while the other slides over the expanse of his chest, his skin spun silk and heated and shivering with goosebumps. Magnus rubs at one of his nipples with the calloused pad of his thumb, staying there and circling it slowly when he feels the shudder in Taako’s body. His breathing is still mostly steady but it’s deepened, audible in the otherwise silent room.

Magnus forces his eyes open. He has to see him. Has to watch him feel this.

Taako’s eyebrows knit together when Magnus takes that nipple between his fingers and starts to pluck at it, starts to pinch it firmly and tug it just far enough that it’s gotta send a spark of pain down Taako’s body. His skin is ethereal in the way of high elves, glowing soft like moonlight in a way that highlights the spidery lilac veins on his eyelids and the dance of cinnamon flecks on his cheeks and nose and the rosy heat flushed beneath. His mouth is full and luscious and parted, and Magnus doesn’t try to kiss him only because he knows he’d never be able to get as close as he wanted to once he started.

Taako is crowded in as close as the bars will allow, smelling of smoke from a wood fire and a cool, peppery incense and maybe of crushed roses, the scent of spells and magic and new moon rituals, and he doesn’t know how he knows that or how he can pick out the individual scents of the creature caught up in his hands, but he does and he can and he is, and Taako finally lets out a sound, a quiet, broken whine that gets cut off almost as soon as it starts.

“Why did you let me do this when I’m stuck in this fucking cell?” Magnus asks, frustrated but only mildly so. He returns to petting him, to sliding heavy hands over his chest and his belly and dipping into the waist of his clingy leggings. Taako’s hands are wrapped around two bars now, holding onto them tight. His forehead is pressed to the bars, at the perfect height for Magnus to kiss it.

He does.

“Goddamnit, why did you have to be sweet?” Taako mutters, tipping his face up for kisses like a flower in a rainstorm. Magnus kisses all the skin Taako gives him and the cell door allows him, peppering stolen adoration along his hairline and his delicate eyebrows and the fine line of his small nose. His hands move to the small of Taako’s back, pulling him into a gentle arch again before he makes a slow journey up his spine and back down.

Taako shies away just as Magnus’s mouth nearly touches his, and Magnus tightens his grip on him for the first time, holding him where he is and not letting him break away.

“No,” Taako says, and it’s a pleading sound, punctuated by Taako’s small hands pushing at his chest. “Not… not that.”

Magnus loosens his hold on him as soon as the word ‘no’ leaves his mouth, but he doesn’t let him go. A kiss dropped to his temple tells Taako it’s okay even when Magnus can’t find the words for it. The unspoken pain of the past shimmers between them, making Magnus savor it more when he caresses Taako’s body again and again, taking care to hold on to the memory of the way he feels, of how very real it got so fucking quickly.

“Who the hell are you?” comes an echoing, deep voice from down the hall. Magnus lets go just as Taako snatches himself out of his grasp, reaching down to drag his belt back up his body and hurry to lace it up again.

“Jailbird ho,” Taako says, blindly tying a bow and looking more composed than ever as he levels the guard with an even gaze. “Conjugal visit.”

Magnus doesn’t give a fuck about any of the consequences in front of him. He leans heavily against the bars and rests his forehead against the cool metal, letting it soothe his burning skin as he tries to force himself to calm down. His cock throbs in his breeches, needy and ready for whatever Taako was about to give him.

“Nah, but for real. I’m here to bail this idiot out. My man gets an itchy fist when I’m not home to give it up to him twice a day, you feel me? He goes out lookin’ for a fight. Usually finds one.”

Taako glances over at Magnus, tossing him a wink that makes Magnus grin in spite of everything.

“Well,” the guard finally says, looking between them, “front desk is this way. You can take care of it there. Now, c’mon. Before I throw you in there with him.”

Magnus perks up at the threat. Taako shoots him a withering glare like he can fucking sense it.

“I will not have you humping my leg like a dog in a jail cell on a Tuesday night,” Taako hisses, elbowing Magnus cleanly in the ribs between the bars. “Chill out for a minute and let me work my magic.”

Magnus watches him walk away longingly, his face smashed against iron bars.

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to do,” he mumbles to himself with a heavy sigh. His ass hits the stone bench hard and he slumps back against the wall, a hand pushed between his legs to massage out the ache in his balls. 

His head swims pleasantly with thoughts of what the next few hours of his life will be like, what exactly will go down in Taako’s rented room above Friendly’s tavern before they set out on their new job.

It’s the last thought he has before dawn. He wakes up still a little drunk in a sparse room on a tiny bed, alone. A note is taped to his forehead.

_Downstairs when you drag your sorry ass out of bed. Motivation: I have a hangover spell._

_T_

_P.S. You didn’t get any last night jsyk._

Magnus crumples the note in his fist and groans.

“Fuck my life.”


End file.
